


Strengths and Weaknesses

by lovetheblazer



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Banter, Fluff, M/M, crisscolfer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/pseuds/lovetheblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or 5 reasons why Darren loses the job but wins the guy. Based on <a href="http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/post/130430260366/accordingtodevin-interviews-are-hard">this webcomic</a>. CrissColfer Alternative Meeting AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strengths and Weaknesses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [froggydarren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Interviews are Hard](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/148615) by accordingtodevin. 



> A belated birthday present for Jen, one of my oldest and dearest fandom friends <3

It takes Darren about five seconds from the moment he walks into the lobby to realize he's hopelessly out of his depth. He'd suspected as much when he first got the call to set up an interview. The Editor in Chief was a friend of his father's, so the interview spot felt like a courtesy more than anything else. His family connections may have moved his application to the top of the pile and earned him a first round interview, but they were unlikely to actually win him the job. They simply wouldn't be enough, not when the relevant work history part of his resume was decidedly thin and padded out with odd jobs that weren't particularly relevant to writing about music and popular culture for the online arm of a large, well-known magazine.

He smoothes out the wrinkles in his chambray button down shirt. He'd decided against wearing his suit jacket to the interview, mainly because the weather app showed a high of 95 degrees for New York and he had zero desire to sweat through his shirt  _and_  jacket during the subway commute from Brooklyn. But he'd also thought, perhaps naively, that a magazine like Entertainment Weekly might have a slightly more relaxed dress code than most businesses in the area. Surveying the smartly attired applicants waiting all around him, most wearing clothing Darren can identify as coming from the most recent Brooks Brother catalogue, he realizes that he was wrong in his assumption. Between the expensive-looking ties, sharply pressed suits, recently shined shoes, abundance of leather briefcases, and vague air of superiority, the lobby is practically interchangeable with any on Wall Street. It only reinforces Darren's belief that he  _so_  doesn't belong here. If he can see it that clearly, he suspects the editor will too and his interview will be over before it's even begun. He'd honestly be tempted to turn around and walk right back out the door, if not for the fact that skipping the interview would probably make his dad look bad.

Instead, Darren takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and approaches a bored-looking receptionist playing Candy Crush on her phone. “Um hi, I'm here for an interview?”

Her head snaps up at his words, cheeks flushing as she guiltily drops her phone to her lap. “Name please?”

“Darren Criss,” he replies. He consults the post-it note stuck to the front of his resume before adding, “I'm supposed to be interviewing with Jeremiah Jacobson.”

The receptionist types something into the computer and then nods. “Yes, I've got you right here. Unfortunately Mr. Jacobson isn't in today.”

Darren has a brief moment to feel equal parts annoyed that he spent nearly an hour getting to the office for no reason and relieved that he won't have to fake his way through an interview before she continues, “You'll be interviewing with his associate editor, Chris Colfer, instead.”

“Oh, okay,” Darren replies. He can only hope this younger, presumably less experienced person might take pity on him and his flimsy resume.

“If you'd like to take a seat over there with the other candidates,” the receptionist prompts, gesturing to the sea of Brooks Brothers models sitting in a row of upholstered chairs. “And can I offer you something to drink while you wait? We've got coffee, tea, water...”

Darren barely suppresses the urge to ask for a bourbon neat, just to see what her reaction would be. Sure, it's barely 9 AM but day drinking is the new night drinking, right? “No thank you, I'm fine,” he says instead. Then, he leans in conspiratorially and asks, “So, what level are you on?”

“Excuse me?” she frowns, brow creased in confusion.

Darren points to the phone on her lap. “I saw you playing Candy Crush earlier.”

“Oh,  _that_ ,” she laughs. “Yeah, not really supposed to be on my phone much at work, but it helps pass the time between fielding calls. And hang on, let me see.” She picks up her phone and opens up the app. “I'm on level 315 and liable to be stuck on it forever because it's impossible.”

“Damn,” Darren murmurs. “See, I was all set to offer you my game-playing expertise, but you are way ahead of me, so I've got nothing of value to add, I'm afraid. I'm stuck somewhere in the mid two hundreds.”

“You'll get there eventually,” the receptionist tells him, chuckling. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Very wise words,” Darren smiles. “Okay sorry, I'll let you get back to your actual job now. I'll just be...” he trails off.

“Yep, right that way,” she directs, gesturing towards a cluster of empty chairs in the corner of the lobby.

* * *

Time passes slowly while Darren waits for his turn to interview. First, he has to put up with the appraising glances of the other job candidates as he takes his seat. It's easy to tell from their slightly smug smirks as they scan his body, clocking his lack of a suit jacket, wrinkled shirt, and scuffed leather loafers, that they don't view him as legitimate competition for the position. It irks him to be so soundly dismissed, even if he doesn't really disagree with their conclusions. Then, there's the cloud of expensive cologne that he's immediately engulfed in. It's overpowering enough to make his eyes water and trigger his allergies, making him sneeze so often that the receptionist eventually walks over and sits a box of Kleenex on an end table next to him with a sympathetic smile.

Finally, there's the usual pre-interview jitters that make it next to impossible for Darren to sit still or focus on the back issue of Entertainment Weekly magazine he's more pretending to read than actually comprehending. It's silly – he has no clue why he's getting so worked up over a job he's pretty sure that he doesn't even want. The only real appeal it holds for him would be the way it'd get his parents off his back about his plan for the future. But even still, a real job would mean early mornings and occasionally late nights at the office. That would cut into his time for the one thing Darren is passionate about – his musical gigs.

“Darren Criss?” a disembodied voice calls from the door at the far end of the lobby.

_Finally,_  Darren thinks. He stands, gathering his meager two page resume from the glass coffee table in front of him. As he walks towards the door, he makes one final half-hearted attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt and pants.

From the timbre of the voice that called out his name, Darren's expecting a young, pink cheeked secretary to greet him at the door. So it's a pleasant surprise when instead he's met at the locked double doors leading to the EW offices by a young, handsome guy. He's tall with porcelain skin, slightly elfin features, and impressively sculpted hair. He's wearing expensive looking charcoal grey suit pants and a sky-blue button down shirt and tie, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Darren assumes he's just the assistant of whoever he'll be interviewing with, but the rolled up sleeves make him feel a little less out of place in his wrinkled shirt and absent suit coat. “Darren?” he checks.

“Yep, that's me,” Darren confirms, giving him his most winning smile. He's debating on whether or not to extend his hand to shake but before he can make up his mind, the guy turns his back and swipes a keycard he's wearing on a lanyard around his neck through the scanner at the door. It opens automatically, exposing a long, brightly lit corridor with large framed covers of past magazine editions hanging along the walls.

The guy sets off down the hallway at a brisk pace, not even looking back once to make sure Darren's following. He winds up practically galloping to match pace with the guy's long legs, wondering how much farther they have to go down the seemingly endless corridor.

Darren feels like crying with the relief when he sees the guy stop at threshold of open door. He glances back and sees Darren at least a few feet behind, looking bemused as Darren scrambles one last time to catch up.

“Going to make it?” he comments dryly as Darren stops at the doorway.

“Eventually,” Darren pants, wondering how obvious it is that he's sweating. Maybe it's time to finally get on that workout regime he's been meaning to start on and off since high school. “If that was the first test, I assume I failed? Damn my short legs.”

The guy laughs suddenly, his nose scrunching up as he breaks into an adorable open-mouthed grin. Immediately, Darren finds himself wanting nothing more than to make him laugh again, just for another glimpse at that smile. “Well, time and pop culture wait for no man, Darren. You learn that in the journalism industry.”

“Touché,” Darren chuckles good-naturedly.

The guy steps into the office and Darren follows behind him. He's expecting to see a boring executive office, all dark wood and leather and antique paperweights, but instead the office is bright and airy, the walls filled with framed pictures. Darren sees a rare Star Wars theater poster that he's sure must have cost of fortune (judging by the couple of eBay auctions he's priced) and whistles under his breath, impressed and jealous in equal measure.

As he walks over towards the desk, he notices a bunch of Pop figurines displayed on top of a bookshelf, clocking a Ninja Turtle, the Eleventh Doctor, and Peter Pan among the collection. Whoever's office they are in right now, their tastes couldn't be more in sync. Maybe the interview won't be quite as hopeless as he'd been anticipating if he plays his cards correctly.

“So, how do you like working for your boss?” Darren asks casually. Maybe he can pump the assistant for some good intel that he can leverage in the interview.

“Jeremiah? He's a good editor, tough but fair. I don't get a ton of one-on-one time with him now that I've been promoted, but he was a godsend when I was still trying to develop my writing style and figure out how to be a real critic,” the guy replies. Darren watches him sit down behind the desk and it finally clicks that he's not the assistant of the person he was supposed to interview with, but the interviewer himself. It's pretty impressive that he's already risen to the title of associate editor, given that he looks at least a few years younger than Darren (who at twenty-eight has only a string of jobs, rather than a proper career, to his name).

“Oh, you're Chris?” Darren blurts out before thinking. “Uh, I mean Mr. Colfer,” he corrects quickly, blushing.

“Don't worry, Chris is fine,” he promises, laughing. “And yeah, I get that a lot. People think I can't possible be an editor because I look too–” he trails off for a second, momentarily distracted by something that pops up on his computer screen.

“Hot?” Darren guesses, right at the same moment Chris says “young.”

“Wait, what?” Chris frowns in confusion at Darren's words, although Darren can tell he's flattered by the way his cheeks redden. “Is there some colloquialism I'm not aware of about all writers or editors being unattractive?”

“Um, maybe?” Darren babbles. “God, sorry, I don't know what's come over me today.”

“It's... fine,” Chris manages, seeming suspicious that Darren is putting him on. “But we should probably get to the actual interview now. I've got quite a few more candidates to see today, judging by the state of the lobby.”

“Ah yes, the Brooks Brothers clones. Fair warning: they all went a little overboard on cologne today,” Darren quips.

“I know, right?” Chris giggles. “I had to crack the window after the last interview because I was scared I might suffocate otherwise. What compels them to bathe in it like that?”

“I don't know. Maybe power cologning is the new firm handshake?” Darren shrugs. “I don't subscribe to Business Weekly so I wouldn't know.”

“What about Entertainment Weekly?” Chris asks.

“Honestly? No,” Darren admits. “It's definitely my go-to reading in doctor's office waiting rooms though, if that helps my case any. And I read the website fairly often.”

Chris picks up a clipboard and a pen from his desk. “What sections and types of articles do you typically read?”

“The Popwatch blog I read on an almost daily basis. Other than that, I mostly check out the TV recaps and the album reviews and band feature stories,” Darren replies honestly.

Chris scribbles down a few notes, then asks, “Do you have a copy of your resume with you?”

Darren sheepishly passes over his rather pathetic resume. Chris takes it from him and begins quickly scanning it. While he does, Darren takes a moment to look at some of the framed pictures sitting on the desk. There's a photo at Disney World with a slightly younger-looking Chris and who Darren assumes are Chris's parents and younger sister. Besides that, there's a smaller candid of a golden retriever puppy playing in a pile of fall leaves. The third and final picture is of a large, scowling cat wearing Yoda ears. Darren snickers appreciatively.

He's relieved to find that there are no photos showing a significant other; he's already checked and assured himself that Chris isn't wearing a wedding ring. He seriously doubts that he has a shot at the job, but maybe he has a shot at a date? From the office décor, he's aware that he and Chris have quite a lot in common. Plus, Chris is pretty damn attractive but in a more unique way. He's definitely Darren's type.

When he glances back up, Chris is reading the bottom of the second page of his resume with a slightly disappointed look. He quickly switches to a more neutral expression once he realizes that Darren's watching him. “What's so funny?” he wonders aloud.

“Your cat,” Darren responds, gesturing to the framed picture. “I dig the costume, but it would appear that he doesn't.”

“Oh Brian?” Chris nods. “Yeah, he hates it when I dress him up, but it was Halloween and I had a whole group costume theme planned out, so...” he trails off, shrugging.

Darren sees an opening to pry a little and takes it. “Oh yeah? Like a couple's costume, or...?”

“No, not a couple's costume. Just me, my dog, cat, and one of my best friends.” Chris responds. He sets Darren's resume on the desk in front of him.

“So, you're single?” Darren presses.

“I am, yes,” Chris finally answers, a slightly bewildered expression on his face. “Do you always ask so many personal questions?”

“I mean, hey, I'm interviewing to be a journalist, right?” Darren jokes. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“About that...” Chris introduces. “I didn't see much in the way of writing experience or education on your resume. What was your college degree in?”

“Theater,” he says.

“Theater, huh? That must have been fun. I've heard Michigan has a pretty good program,” Chris comments.

“Best four years of my life. You can't beat Ann Arbor,” Darren agrees easily.

“And what made you decide to apply for a job here? Are you looking to change career paths?” Chris inquires.

“Honestly? I don't really have a career path. Music is my first love and greatest passion, but it doesn't always pay the bills as well as I'd like. My dad is good friends with Mr. Jacobson and he mentioned that you were hiring right now, so I figured I'd give it a shot,” Darren confesses.

“I see,” Chris nods. “Well, I appreciate you being straightforward with me, Darren. So many people try to bullshit their way through interviews or trump up qualifications and previous positions even though they know as soon as they leave here, I'll call their references and find out that they were lying.”

“Yeah, lying's not really my thing. I'm an open book, though sometimes my tendency to blurt things out gets me in trouble too,” Darren mentions coyly.

“I've noticed,” Chris laughs. Darren grins back at him appreciatively, heart fluttering when the lingering gaze lasts a little longer than is probably appropriate for a job interview. He hopes it's a sign of Chris's interest, because he's already steeling himself to tank the interview if necessary to help secure Chris's number and a date.

Chris finally looks away, rubbing at the base of his neck with his hand while he glances down at the paper on his clipboard. “So, I've got a few standard questions for you now,” he introduces.

“Ask away...”

“What types of skills do you think you've gained from your previous jobs? And how might those skills be relevant to your employment here?” Chris begins.

“Man, giving me a tough one right off the bat,” Darren chuckles. “And here I thought you might go easy on me since we're both such big fans of Avatar: The Last Airbender,” he mentions, pointing to the poster behind Chris's desk. “That's a deep cut, I'm impressed.”

“Oh yeah? You've seen it? Most people haven't,” Chris says, eyes sparkling. He looks like he wants to add more but then glances at the small clock on his desk and winces. “But we should probably get back to the question at hand...”

“Right okay, so I suppose what I would bring to the job is just that I'm... a fan of things? I've traveled a lot, I've been lucky to see many Broadway shows and concerts and the like, so I'm going to get the references and influences. I make sure I expose myself to wide variety of pop culture so I'd try to let that education inform my opinions on whatever TV show or movie or band I'm reviewing,” Darren manages. It's the truth, but he's pretty sure it's not the answer Chris needs to hear.

While Chris scribbles down his answer, Darren wonders how much longer he can keep the charade up before Chris is going to send him packing and move on to the next interviewee. He doesn't want to waste time and miss out on the opportunity to state his interest, because he seriously doubts he'll get another chance with Chris.

“What would you say your strengths are, just generally?”

“Uh, I fall in love too easily?” Darren blurts out before he can lose his nerve.

Chris drops his pen to the desk in shock, looking up at Darren with a bewildered expression. “I'm... sorry, what was that again?”

“You heard me right, I think,” Darren murmurs. He can feel himself blushing but he maintains eye contact with Chris anyway. “Hopeless romantic here.”

“Ooo-kay,” Chris chokes out, staring at his clipboard again. “I'm almost scared to ask, but what about your weaknesses?”

Darren rests his chin on his fist. “Those blue eyes of yours.” It's such a ridiculous line that Darren almost wants to slap  _himself_  for saying it, but he can't deny that he means it nevertheless.

Chris just stares at him in shock. He slowly removes his glasses and places them on the desk, massaging his temples for a moment before he speaks. “Did someone put you up to this? Was this like a dare or something?”

“What? No, no, of course not,” Darren rushes to reassure him. “It was just a line, it's cheesy I know, but...”

“So, you enjoy wasting people's time?” Chris asks, peering at him almost suspiciously.

“I'm really sorry, I'm sure you're very busy. I didn't come in here with that intention, believe me. It's just that... well hell, you've seen my resume. It's hopeless. I don't really belong here. I'm not qualified and there's no way you were actually going to hire me. And you're really hot and just judging by your office décor, we have a ton in common and I just thought maybe that–“

“Okay okay, call down,” Chris interrupts, cutting off Darren's rambling apology mid-stream.  “You think I'm hot?”

“Very,” Darren responds truthfully.

“You're right about the job,” Chris admits. “You're really not qualified. I'm not even sure how you got an interview based off this resume.”

“Nepotism, basically,” Darren shrugs.

“Oh that's right. You mentioned the family friend...” Chris nods. “So yeah, I don't really see any point in asking you the rest of the interview questions.”

“Fair enough,” Darren sighs. His heart sinks as he waits for Chris to tell him to get out. He should probably be grateful that he's not getting security called on him, given the stunt he pulled, but he can't help but feel disappointed that he'll likely never see Chris again.

“But...” Chris adds after a loaded pause.

“But?” Darren echoes immediately.

“Well, I've got a few minutes before I have to interview the next Brooks Brothers clone, as you so aptly named them. I think you were saying something before about us having quite a lot in common?” Chris asks with a quizzical tilt of his head.

“Oh man, you have no idea,” Darren exclaims. “I mean first of all, that Star Wars poster must have set you back some  _crazy_ coin. I'm so jealous.”

“It wasn't cheap. Definitely one of my more expensive insomnia online shopping purchases, but totally worth it. Maybe if you had a better job, you might be able to afford one of your own,” Chris teases. “Although you'd probably need some coaching on how to give a proper job interview first...”

“Perhaps you could help me out with that? A little tutorial over dinner or drinks?” Darren suggests slyly.

“Oh honey, you'd take a lot more than one session to sort out,” Chris laughs.

“Hey, I'm a hard worker when it counts, especially when I've got a good teacher,” Darren flirts right back. Now that he knows he's on the right track, he's totally prepared to wear Chris down.

“That remains to be seen...” Chris says noncommittally. “But everyone loves Star Wars, so it's not that crazy that we have that in common.”

“Okay, but there's also Avatar: The Last Airbender, Doctor Who, Disney movies, Ninja Turtles, animals, and Harry Potter,” Darren ticks off on his fingers as he looks around the room. “And that's all before I've even properly snooped around your office.”

“That's a bit more impressive,” Chris demurs, “but I'm afraid there won't be time for snooping today.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night, then?”

“What's wrong with tonight?” Chris smiles shyly.

“I have a gig, unfortunately. Unless you wanted to check it out? We could grab a late dinner afterwards,” Darren offers.

“What kind of gig are we talking? Because I'm not really the mosh pit type...”

“Really? You could've fooled me,” Darren jokes. “And it's a low-key show, kind of an acoustic coffee house vibe? Nothing scary, I promise.”

“How original,” Chris teases. “Are you going to play Wonderwall?”

“Why Mr. Colfer, are you saying I'm one big, fat cliché?” Darren pouts. “But I totally take requests. If it's Wonderwall you want, you got it.”

“Score.”

“So, is that a yes?” Darren prods, wanting to be sure.

“What time?” Chris asks.

“8 PM at The Way Station. I can text you the address if you want to give me your number?”

“Hand me your phone,” Chris requests. Darren quickly pulls his iPhone out of his pocket and unlocks it before passing it to Chris who enters his name and phone number.

“There, all set,” Chris nods in satisfaction. “Let me walk you out.”

Darren hops to his feet, barely suppressing the urge to bounce up and down with excitement that he managed to close the deal with one of the cutest guys he's met in months, if not years.

He lets Chris lead the way out of his office and back down the hallway. Once again, Darren finds himself having to scramble to keep up with Chris's endless legs. He's already imagining those long legs spread out beneath him or wrapped around his waist. Darren's really not picky.

Chris stops at the door that leads out to the lobby, but doesn't open it right away. He turns and watches Darren jog to catch up. “We're really going to have to work on your stamina,” he chuckles.

“I can think of a few ways to accomplish that,” Darren winks.

“And I'm sure I can come up with at least a few more,” Chris adds in a low, throaty voice.

“I'll see you at 8, then?” Darren confirms.

“Yes.” Chris swipes his lanyard through the scanner to unlock the door, holding it open so Darren can leave. He sees half the lobby perk up at the sound of the door, with probably a dozen faces swiveling to look at them in near unison.

Darren leans forward and gives Chris a quick peck on the cheek, not bothered by having an audience. “It's a date,” he whispers. Then he walks through the lobby and back outside into the sunshine, leaving a sea of wide-eyed Brooks Brothers candidates in his wake.


End file.
